


The Skull of Rebellion is Your Flag

by definitely_a_textbook



Series: Persona 5 One-shots [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Gen, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, the others will show up in some eventually i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24711655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/definitely_a_textbook/pseuds/definitely_a_textbook
Summary: When Ryuji took stock of the years he'd felt the happiest before the Phantom Thieves' founding, most of his memories coalesced around track meets and shiny first place metals. Kamoshida had a nasty habit of taking good things away. He made Ryuji's life a waking nightmare. Before the Phantom Thieves, Ryuji felt trapped, with nowhere to go and no one to turn to. Ryuji hadn't felt safe in a long time, but he was determined to ensure that no one else was a frightened outcast alone.Short-stories of Shujin's problem student; the infamous Phantom Thief leader's right-hand man.(A series of one-shots focusing on Ryuji.)
Relationships: Persona 5 Protagonist/Sakamoto Ryuji, Sakamoto Ryuji & Phantom Thieves of Heart, Sakamoto Ryuji & Sakamoto Ryuji's Mother, Sakamoto Ryuji & Takamaki Ann
Series: Persona 5 One-shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843474
Comments: 25
Kudos: 118





	1. The Making of a Delinquent

Returning to school had been a shitshow after Kamoshida broke his femur and the school remained steadfast in their claim that Ryuji had been the aggressor. Ryuji could feel the stares and sneers of his classmates while he climbed the steps of Shujin academy with his crutches. If they didn’t gawk, the student body as a whole began avoiding him in the halls, watching constantly to make sure they were keeping their distance.

Ryuji hadn’t been insanely popular before he raised his fist at Kamoshida, but he hadn’t been unpopular either. He’d always had an easy time making friends. He’d annoyed a few people in the process, but he’d mostly stuck to the track team to start with and he’d thought they’d all grown fairly close. Ryuji was shocked to find that the school he’d gone to for an entire semester was not the same when he returned after his knee surgery. Since the moment he’d stepped foot into Shujin’s halls, the atmosphere of the school had transformed into something inhospitable seemingly overnight. 

His teachers suddenly seemed to dislike his presence in the classroom, all awkward smiles and clipped comments. His classmates whispered amongst themselves, looking over their shoulders to ensure they weren’t being heard. Ryuji had even leaned over to ask the person next to him if they knew what homework he missed and was only met with a silent sideways glance. 

Lunch didn’t go much better. Ryuji had some hope he could escape the oppressive atmosphere of his classroom by finding his friends in the classroom next door. Nakaoka would usually meet Ryuji in the hallway before they found a few members of the track team to sit with for the remainder of the period. Nakaoka wasn’t waiting in the hall for him and no one from the team who he’d shared phone numbers with had answered his texts about meeting up for lunch. Ryuji checked the classroom next door and the one after that, but none of the first-year members of the track team were there. One spot he knew they liked to hang out was in the sports building, but Ryuji hadn’t been certain he wanted to walk all the way there only to find out they had gone to the courtyard instead.

In the end, he sat down at the end of the hall, his crutches propped up beside him, and he ate there. He checked his phone every few minutes, hoping he’d eventually get a response from someone. He didn’t have any of the numbers of the third years he had befriended, not that they’d want to eat lunch with a first-year in the first place, but at least he wouldn’t be alone.

It was embarrassing eating lunch by himself in the hall, watching people pass and occasionally making eye contact someone who visibly seemed a little put off by him being there. A few minutes before class was supposed to begin again, Ryuji spotted Takeishi exit the stairwell and turn away toward the direction of his classroom. Ryuji pushed himself up onto his feet, abandoning his bag in favor of quickly grabbing his crutches. He moved in Takeishi’s direction as quickly as he could manage, but his teammate didn’t make it easy to catch up to him.

“Takeishi! Hey!” Ryuji called out to him, trying to pick up his pace. “Hey, wait for me!”

Takeishi stopped outside his classroom and turned. He sent a sideways glance Ryuji’s way and frowned. “What do you want?”

“What? I…” Ryuji stopped in front of him, readjusting his grip on his crutches so that they weren’t digging into his arms as much. “Did you see my texts? Where were you guys during lunch?”

“Why would that be any of your business?”

“Because… we eat lunch together… sometimes,” Ryuji replied, not quite as sure of himself as he had been before.

Takeishi raised an eyebrow. “Did you think everything was just going to go back to normal after the stunt you pulled?”

With an anxious laugh, Ryuji quickly glanced around the hallway. Perhaps Takeishi would give up the joke if Ryuji acted like he was catching on. The more likely alternative sat like a lead weight in the pit of his stomach. “What do you mean?”

“You fucked up this time, Sakamoto." Takeishi took a menacing step forward. Ryuji was unable to move back and, at best, could only lean back to look up at Takeishi’s face, twisted into a snarl. "Track’s gone thanks to you.”

“Me?!” Ryuji shouted. He straightened his posture, trying to look braver than he actually felt. Takeishi had never looked at Ryuji like this. The worst he’d ever gotten was a scrunched nose and an eye-roll when Ryuji openly complained about Kamoshida after practice. 

“Quit complaining,” he’d said like Ryuji hadn’t been chewed out by Kamoshida enough during practice and needed Takeishi to add his two cents. “You’re the star of the track team. It’s not like he’ll actually bench you over a few measly seconds.”

Ryuji had thought the same thing. He used to think Kamoshida was all bark and no bite in regards to Ryuji’s placement. Kamoshida liked to watch them run laps until they puked and hold water breaks over their heads like they were taking his training for granted by just thinking about taking a break. He’d shove and push when you got in his way and the man was tall and broad enough to knock the air out of your lungs when he did. He’d get in their faces and scream until they broke down into tears once they were out of his sight, but Ryuji never feared that he’d lose his spot on the team. 

“You’re untouchable,” Takeishi had said, a bitterness to his voice Ryuji hadn’t recognized.

Ryuji had believed him too. No matter what Kamoshida said or did, Ryuji was still the track team’s fastest sprinter. If Kamoshida wanted to win at Nationals, he needed Ryuji. Ryuji had truly felt untouchable when Kamoshida finally hit his last nerve, but then he’d swung first and it all fell apart from there.

Kamoshida had never wanted the track team to win at Nationals, let alone for the team to exist in the first place. If the track team brought in all the awards, where did that leave the volleyball team? Shujin’s volleyball team hardly ever won games with their old coach at the helm. Kamoshida didn’t need the track team and he didn’t need Ryuji. Ryuji had been a roadblock to his success story. He’d only needed an opportunity to clear the road.

“Kamoshida hated our team!” Ryuji growled, shocked that Takeishi didn’t see that. “He must have-”

“He hated us and you gave him the perfect reason to get rid of us.” Takeishi jabbed a finger into Ryuji’s chest. “You knew that. We were doing fine until you had to prove a point.”

“I wasn’t-!” Ryuji heard his own voice crack and he winced, “He deserved it!”

“Don’t talk to me anymore. None of us want to be seen with you, anyway. You’ve ruined our reputation enough as it is.” Takeishi turned and entered his classroom, leaving Ryuji in the hallway.

“What’s Sakamoto yelling about now?” Ryuji heard a voice behind him ask.

“I think he was trying to pick a fight with that guy,” replied another.

Ryuji rushed for the bathroom down the hall. He dipped inside and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirrors. His face was flushed bright red, the embarrassment of it all curling across his cheeks and over his ears. Tears welled up in his eyes as Ryuji pulled himself into a bathroom stall and locked the door. His crutches clattered to the ground as he slid down onto the tile floor, lungs stuttering for air as he fought to stop himself from crying.

He lost the battle as his whole body was wracked with sobs; his head spun, his chest heaved, his leg ached. He pulled his good knee up to his chest and wrapped an arm around it. He pressed his cheek into the fabric of his pant leg and pulled his phone from his pocket. He blinked to clear his vision and tried to inhale a few deep breaths. Letting the tears spill over again, he searched through his contacts. He had a pretty good idea that his texts were probably blocked rather than just ignored. Ryuji wanted to block his so-called friends right back, a thought that felt comfortingly righteous and vengeful. Realistically, however, they would never know he blocked their chat IDs and if they did know, they probably wouldn’t care. That realization quickly took the wind out of Ryuji’s sails. So, he deleted their numbers from his contact list instead. The task left his contact list nearly empty at the end of it all. Ryuji was disappointed to realize a lot of the remaining numbers were from early middle school and consisted of people he hadn’t talked to for at least a year. He hadn’t even been sure if he really remembered who half of them were anymore. 

Ryuji sat on the bathroom floor, choosing to hide until the tears decided to fuck off and leave him alone. He intended to stay in the bathroom as long as he could, even until the end of the school day, until he remembered he’d left his schoolbag behind.

Ryuji groaned and tipped his head back, thumping it against the stall door. He sniffled and glared up at the ceiling. “Eff this shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, whenever I’m hit with writer’s block, my usual go-to solution is to start a one-shot fanfic series and upload them. I did this with Yusuke a while back, so they’re sort of like character studies. This one focuses on Ryuji. (Maybe, I’ll update the Yusuke one? It's been years tho lol)


	2. King of a Castle and a Boy Made of Flame

It was barely a few days into his second year at Shujin on a rainy morning, when Ryuji caught a glimpse of Ann Takamaki, a girl he hadn’t spoken to since middle school, climbing into Kamoshida’s car. Spurred on by a sudden need to get her out of that asshole’s front seat, Ryuji pushed himself forward and sprinted for the first time since he’d broken his leg. Last year, he would have caught up to the car long before it started down the road again. Instead, Ann was gone before Ryuji skid to a stop on the wet pavement, out of breath and limping.

“Shit!” he growled, his knee twinging and nearly buckling underneath him. Ryuji had never felt so slow in his entire life. His heart pounded in his chest and the adrenaline made his head swim. He leaned heavily on his good leg. “Dammit! Screw that pervy teacher!”

“Pervy teacher?”

Ryuji spun around and was met with a Shujin student that he didn’t recognize, even though the pin on his jacket proved they were in the same grade. He closed his fists, ready for a fight to put his building adrenaline to good use until he realized he was face to face with the infamous transfer student everyone kept talking about.

When the rumors in the halls had switched from Ryuji’s bad reputation to a new delinquent that would be transferring in as a second-year, Ryuji tried to listen in on more conversations in class. He’d quickly found the forum people were talking about that spilled everything about the guy’s criminal record. He felt bad to have gone looking for it, but he’d been curious if any of the rumors held any weight. They rarely did, after all. There had been a documented assault and subsequent arrest, but then there had been a bunch of talk and speculation about what he’d done before getting arrested without much proof. Ryuji hadn’t been ready to believe any of the rumors beyond what was clearly documented.

The guy had a somewhat unassuming demeanor for someone supposedly arrested for assault and, possibly, a lot more. His name was Akira and he seemed fairly average, all things considered. He stood at about Ryuji's height and had soft, but handsome features hidden behind his glasses and curly mop of black hair. Ryuji couldn’t really picture the guy getting into a street fight, but people had said the same about Ryuji once upon a time. Since he asked, Ryuji offered a vague picture of Kamoshida and the coach’s shiftiness, how he lorded over the school like it was his own personal castle, hoping to at least warn the new kid before he really saw what it was like behind Shujin’s walls. He offered to lead him there, only allowing himself a sliver of hope that, if he was nice now, the guy might be on Ryuji’s side in the future.

He hadn’t expected to be sitting in a dark and damp cell in a castle situated in the same location Ryuji thought the school had been, dizzy from the blow he’d taken to the skull from a metal shield. Akira had been knocked unconscious in the same breath and hadn’t woken up when Ryuji tumbled out of the cot beside his or when he tried to nudge him awake.

Ryuji was worried about him. The air in the cell was dank and stale. Even while pulling futilely against the thick iron bars that stood between him and a normal fucking day at school, Ryuji couldn’t see far into the dungeon. Cool stone twisted and blurred the farther into the distance he tried to look and it made his head spin. He wondered if it was just the blow to the head distorting his vision or if the dungeon really had such an intangible quality to it. Despite feeling like the stone floor beneath him was constantly shifting ever-so-slightly, the screams from nearby cells bounced off the walls were perfectly amplified. They weren’t safe here and Ryuji didn’t know if he could protect the cell’s second occupant by himself.

“Hey,” Ryuji said, pulling himself back over to Akira’s unconscious body. He dropped down onto the floor beside the cot and nudged his shoulder for the second time. Akira stirred slightly, spurring on Ryuji’s attempts to wake him. “Hey, come on! Wake up! We have to get out of here!”

Akira blinked his gray eyes open, squinting up at Ryuji. “Who…?”

“Ryuji,” he explained, uncertain if he’d actually given Akira his name, “My name’s Ryuji.”

“My glasses?” Akira muttered, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes.

“Oh! Uh…” Ryuji quickly glanced around the immediate vicinity. Akira’s glasses sat across the floor, having probably slipped off his face when they were both tossed into the cell. Ryuji grabbed them and wiped the dust from the glass with his shirt.

“Here,” Ryuji held out Akira’s glasses.

Akira took them and slipped the frames onto his nose. “Thanks,” he said and smiled up at him. Ryuji smiled back, but Akira’s expression quickly went from one of thanks to intense fear. “Behind you.”

Ryuji spun on his heels and was met with a sight he wished he could forget. “Kamoshida?!”

Kamoshida stood, flanked by masked, armored guards and wearing nothing but a pink speedo and kingly cape. Ryuji laughed bitterly, stepping back toward Akira, subconsciously shielding him even as the guards and Kamoshida advanced on him. “What’s with that get up, Kamoshida? And what is this place? Where the hell are we?!”

“I’m surprised to see you, Sakamoto. To think you'd show your face, here, in my castle,” Kamoshida jeered, “I thought my lesson had sunk in, but it looks like you never learn.”

“That’s our teacher?” Akira asked.

“Oh, and you’ve brought a friend. You always did have a way of dragging other people down with you.” Kamoshida waved his hand disinterestedly. “Execute them.”

“What?!” Ryuji charged forward, barely thinking his actions through. His first and only thought was to topple the guard closest to them before they had the chance to raise their sword. “Run!” Ryuji shouted, hoping Akira would cut his losses and leave Ryuji behind. Wherever they were, whatever the hell was going on, Ryuji was not going to let another kid suffer because of him.

“Seriously, just go!” he shouted when Akira showed no sign of leaving, “They just want me! I-” Ryuji groaned as the edge of a shield struck him in the solar plexus. He collapsed against the wall, gasping for air. He forced himself upright, only to be grabbed by the throat and hoist into the air. Ryuji choked, his windpipe slowly being crushed beneath this stranger’s grip. Ryuji scratched and pulled at the fingers as they tightened, terrified by black spots that began to cloud his vision.

“Let him go!” Ryuji heard, just before the tunnel vision set in. He was dropped unceremoniously onto the ground. The world rushed back in and Ryuji blinking his eyes open just in time to watch Akira writhe and scream, pressed to the wall two guards’ spears, before bursting into flame.

“Holy shit,” Ryuji gasped out as a towering monster took shape in the flames and the guards disintegrated, dissolved by a surge of energy that made Ryuji feel ill just existing in the vicinity of it.

When the flames disappeared, leaving Akira dressed in new clothes and dark energy swirling around him, Ryuji scrambled to his feet. Kamoshida, the so-called king, had collapsed into the cell’s far corner and cowered.

“The keys! The keys!” Akira shouted.

Ryuji snatched the key ring off the ground, left behind by the guard that had once stood there.

“Are you okay?” Akira asked after they slammed the cell door closed behind them and locked it.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Ryuji replied.

When they turned to run, they were both met with the disorienting horrors of a castle built upon the backbone of the school. Running through the castle’s seemingly endless halls had been awful on Ryuji’s leg and had left him out of breath throughout their escape. Struggling to keep the volume of their ragged breaths low as they hid behind walls and pillars from guards willing to kill them, Ryuji couldn’t stop thinking about how Akira had burst into flames or how the flames transformed into a being that called itself Arsene. “What was that?” he kept whispering, despite knowing that Akira had no clue as to what the answer was.

Escaping would have been a lot harder without the strange catlike monster they’d found in one of the cells. Ryuji loathed to admit it, but there was a lot they wouldn’t understand without Morgana’s vague explanations. Morgana had known what Arsene was, after all. Arsene was Akira’s true self, a Persona born from his rebellion in the face of injustice. The new getup was a gift of sorts, made to invoke Akira’s perception of a rebel. It was a barrier from the distortion that still left Ryuji feeling like they were running in circles the longer they stayed. That was the sort of introspective, magical mumbojumbo Ryuji didn't want to spent a lot of brainpower contemplating. It was cool, though, and the cat had one too. Whatever kept Kamoshida from executing them that morning was great in Ryuji’s book, even if the cat called him names.

When they tumbled out of the castle and back onto the streets of the city, Ryuji was more than terrified Akira would try to pretend what they’d seen had never happened; that he’d leave him behind to deal with the horrors of dizzying palaces and explain his predicament to truancy officers on his own.

To his credit, Akira did try to subtly nudge him away from mentioning any castles. He had to tug him away in the end, explaining that he really didn’t want to be any later than they already were.

Despite their teacher’s warnings, one of which Ryuji was privy to when Kawakami decided to stop Akira in the hall, Akira was kind enough or possibly dumb enough to meet Ryuji on the roof. Ryuji had sat in a rickety chair, waiting, fully expecting Akira not to show. Akira defied his expectations by greeting him with a small smile and sitting down on the desk beside him.

“Thanks, by the way,” Ryuji admitted quietly, rocking back in his seat to appear a little more casual and less nervous under Akira’s warm and inviting gaze, “for saving me.”

Akira shrugged, turning away and hiding his face as he played with his bangs. “You don’t have to thank me. I couldn’t let them hurt you.”

Ryuji held out his hand to Akira. “Friends?”

Akira nodded and placed his hand in Ryuji's, returning the gesture with a firm shake, “Friends.”

-

It was well past 9 PM that night, after his mother’s shift at the convenience store, and Ryuji was scarfing down a mouthful of reheated, mushy steamed vegetables when his mother set her chopsticks down and quietly watched him eat. Ryuji’s eyes flickered up to meet hers and he quickly wiped his face clean with the back of his wrist before she could try to do it herself.

His mom laughed and leaned back in her chair. “Ryuji, sweetheart… I just wanted to say that you don’t have to wait for me to get home to eat.”

“I like waiting for you,” Ryuji said with a shrug. His mom said that too often for him to count. He knew she thought he felt put out by having to eat so much later in the evening, but he really didn’t mind. If he didn’t wait for her, he was afraid he’d never see her for longer than a few minutes outside of Sunday mornings, the one day a week their schedules usually lined up. “I want to eat with you.”

“Well,” his mom said with a soft smile, picking up her chopsticks again, “I’m glad you want to spend time with me. I was always warned that all teenagers avoided their parents.”

Ryuji hummed and shoved a mouthful of his dinner past his lips to stop himself from saying anything else. He almost wanted to let slip just how much he hated coming home to an empty apartment and how much he wished he could see her outside of the occasional dinner. Ryuji wouldn’t say it, though, because then his mom would frown, she’d apologize, and he’d have put even more pressure on her when she was already working so hard. Ryuji would hate himself if he ever made his mom feel guilty, _again_ , for doing what she had to in order to keep them afloat. Unfortunately, in his attempts to avoid hurting his mom’s feelings, they were left in awkward silence.

His mom watched him for a few moments before speaking again, “You look like you want to tell me something, bud.” 

Ryuji cleared his throat and chewed at his bottom lip. He didn’t particularly want to tell her what he’d actually been thinking about, so he hesitantly mentioned that he’d met and spoken to the new guy at school.

“Ryuji, that’s great!” his mom had said with so much genuine enthusiasm that it made his heart clench. “What's his name? Where'd he transfer from?”

Ryuji felt like he had to try and mitigate his mom’s excitement before he inevitably disappointed her.

“I mean,” he said, forcing his voice to sound nonchalant, "It's not a big deal. His name's Akira. He didn’t tell me where he moved from."

"I'm so excited for you. I’m glad you’re making friends again."

Ryuji tried to discreetly cover his face under the guise of scratching an itch, hoping to hide the blush he could feel rushing to his cheeks. "T-Thanks, mom."


	3. Something For Himself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryuji bleaches his hair for the first time.

Trying and failing to ignore Kamoshida and the rumors he helped to spread did nothing to get Ryuji’s former coach to leave him alone. Ryuji had once held out hope that Kamoshida would change now that he had the volleyball team, the team he supposedly favored over the track team enough prod the school’s star runner into attacking him, instead of expending energy to further disrupt Ryuji’s life. Maybe, if he just kept to himself for the rest of high school, Kamoshida would stop thinking he was interesting enough to target and he’d just send the volleyball team to Nationals like a normal fucking coach.

Unfortunately, Ryuji was convinced that he saw more of the man after the track team was disbanded than he had during actual track practice. Sometimes Ryuji would see him in the halls, his pleasant facade an attempt to get on Ryuji’s nerves. He held Ryuji’s continued enrollment over his head; lording yet another suspension over him every chance he got. Kamoshida loved to remind him that he was edging closer and closer to expulsion with his brash attitude, especially when others were around to watch Ryuji’s temper flare.

Just how much he antagonized Ryuji slipped under the school’s radar with ease. Ryuji knew he was goading him on purpose too, with all the pleasantries when the halls were crowded and the sneers and jabs at his poor attitude when he caught Ryuji alone. All the students and faculty ever seemed to witness was Kamoshida giving Ryuji a well-earned warning while Ryuji yelled back insults, desperate to shut him up.

As the year went on, Ryuji continued to get homework and tests back with poor marks and additional points docked for the doodles he drew in the margins. Eventually, the doodles migrated into the rest of the page. His teachers were not fond of that. As his grades dropped, so did his motivation to come to school.

He started skipping class after a while just to get away from it all, which did not look good on his attendance record. Ryuji never gave his mom much of a chance to find out about his surmounting absences. He’d delete the voicemails the school left on their home phone whenever he got the chance. Ryuji felt terrible for lying to her, believing just a little more every day that she deserved someone better as a son, but some days he just couldn’t convince himself to go to school or that it mattered now that he definitely wouldn't be going to college. What she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her, right? Still, his stomach would tie itself in knots every time he got away with another absence.

When Ryuji did go to class, he didn’t listen, too tired to pay attention and too anxious about what Kamoshida or his classmates would say next to settle down in the classroom. Ryuji really hoped he was the only one on Kamoshida’s shit list.

Without track practice, Ryuji had a lot more time to spend alone in his apartment after school. He spent a lot of it playing video games and sleeping to avoid thinking about his homework or studying. His mom was coming home later more often after she had begun accepting hours later in the evening when they’d started getting behind on bills. It was an isolating experience that almost made him miss his shitty physical therapy sessions. Eventually, he’d gotten so sick of the silence and absentmindedly checking the empty fridge every hour, that he climbed out of bed and went on a trip to the store.

Shopping basket in hand, he circled the store while attempting to remember what his mom had mentioned needing instead of only buying snacks. He wandered into the haircare aisle to find a bottle of shampoo to replace the empty one still sitting in the bathroom and Ryuji found himself standing in front of a wall of hair dye. 

Ryuji knew the school had rules against students dying or bleaching their natural hair. He knew he’d get in trouble the moment he stepped through Shujin’s doors, but Ryuji wasn’t so certain he cared anymore. He had already started going against dress code when he’d gotten too lazy to put his uniform together every morning. There wasn’t much he’d been able to do for himself and his own happiness for years, whether it had been Kamoshida or his dad breathing down his neck. 

For a while, he thought about walking away. There was no guarantee that he would look good with blond hair. Blond hair looked pretty cool on other people, but he wasn’t entirely sure he could pull it off. What kept him standing in the aisle was just how little he was starting to care about what his classmates’ opinions. They were universally bad, despite what he told his mom to make her stop worrying. His classmates didn’t like him and usually tried to ignore him or gossip about him whenever they got the chance. So, Ryuji decided to take a chance. If it looked bad, it looked bad. If he got in trouble, he got in trouble. It wasn’t like he could do much to defend his character. Looking just a little more like a delinquent was fine by him.

He stared at the boxes, searching for a brand simply based on what picture looked the best. He grabbed one off the shelf, shoved it into his basket, and left for checkout before he chickened out and put it back. He was halfway home before he realized he’s forgotten to grab eggs.

He returned home with groceries and a box of hair bleach. Despite the forgotten eggs, his mom had seemed pretty happy to see the haul Ryuji had brought back without being asked. Ryuji didn’t tell his mom that he had stood in front of a wall of haircare products for what felt like thirty minutes, debating the consequences of bleaching his hair blond. Irrationally afraid that his mom wouldn’t let him mess up his hair, Ryuji declared that bleaching his hair was something that he was definitively going to do whether she liked it or not.

His mom, surprisingly eager, helped him bleach his hair that night, only mentioning the school’s handbook and their rules against hair dye a single time. “Oh, but I suppose it’s not really dyed, is it?” she’d said with a tone Ryuji could almost call mischievous as she looked over the instructions. The finished product came out more yellow than intended, but Ryuji smiled, nonetheless.

“I like it,” he told his mom, glancing at her reflection in the mirror and searching for her approval.

She combed her fingers through his bleached and freshly washed hair, peeking over his shoulder so they could both see into the bathroom mirror. She tugged him closer with her other arm and squeezed, smiling away the worry lines. “I like it too. I missed that smile.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think there's going to be an order that any of these are in. I'll just be posting one-shots as I write them.
> 
> Thank you for reading! The next one will be happier, I promise!


	4. A Lightening Strike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryuji awakenings his persona.

Returning to Kamoshida’s Palace had initially seemed like an easy endeavor when the plan was to merely take a look at the outer walls and not be seen. Ryuji would have proof that the castle he’d seen the previous afternoon was actually real and he would be able to stop obsessing over it. Once Morgana helped them realize the castle had bigger implications for the real world that the two of them had assumed, Ryuji immediately wanted to do more. This castle was how Kamoshida saw the world, a castle built around his desires. No one would believe him or Akira about the castle or what its existence meant about Kamoshida’s real inventions, but if they could find who had been replicated to be abused in the dungeon, they could forgo asking around the school for those names.

When Ryuji started trying to memorize faces, he hadn’t anticipated seeing the entirety of the volleyball team. A part of him had always known Kamoshida’s abuse had targeted more than just him and the track team, but he had hoped, perhaps naively, that Kamoshida would treat a team he actually wanted to coach better. Ryuji knew who to look for though, which meant he could do something about it. Maybe he could convince a few members to come forward and speak up once he established that he knew and wanted to help. Ryuji had once hoped for the same thing, after all.

Morgana was eager to push Ryuji and Akira toward the exit. He repeatedly pressed that they were running out of time. Akira eventually tried to help him to speed up the process by checking the cells Ryuji hadn’t reached yet, but even after splitting up, it seemed they weren’t fast enough. When the guards began picking up on their presence, Morgana once again demanded that they found their way back to the exit.

While they had gotten lucky avoiding combat while trying to memorize faces, their luck had run out as they returned to the foyer, mere feet from the exit. Armored shadows erupted from the polished tiles, looming menacingly over them. Ryuji stumbled back with a yelp, pushed aside by Morgana so he wouldn’t be caught up in the ambush. Kamoshida’s shadow leered from behind his guards. Ryuji looked on, helpless, as his friends struggled to stay in the fight.

When both Akira and Morgana finally collapsed, Ryuji’s legs buckled beneath him, terrified he had only succeeded in getting two people killed. Kamoshida stepped out from behind his guards, a grin spread across his lips. Kamoshida, even as a shadow, fell right into place making Ryuji feel worthless. 

“So, the infamous ‘Track Traitor’ returns. I bet you came here on a whim too, just to have it end like this. What a worthless piece of trash.”

Ryuji could feel himself shaking, fear crashing over him in waves. Had all of it really been Ryuji’s fault? He brought Akira back here; begged him to find their way back in. 

“You know,” Kamoshida’s shadow sneered, “That old coach was such a nuisance. Forced me to jump through quite a few hoops to get where I needed to be. I would have settled for just breaking our precious star runner’s leg to let off some steam, but that team was such an eyesore.”

It wasn’t fair. Kamoshida had taken everything. Despite his hopes during physical therapy, Ryuji had been warned that he would never run professionally. Kamoshida had crushed his dreams and dismantled the track team, just because he could. “You just hated our team. You hated _me_! It’s not fair!”

“Do you need me to break your other leg?" Kamoshida stepping down on Morgana’s back. Akira tried to push himself up, but a guard followed Kamoshida's lead and pushed him back down. “It’s a pity these two listened to you. Now, you’ll get to watch as they die, because they sided with trash like you.”

“Stop, please,” Ryuji whimpered. He didn’t know what to do.

“Ryuji!” Akira wheezed, still struggling under the weight of the shadow’ boot. “Don’t listen to him! Stand up for yourself!” 

He met Akira’s eyes and saw the determination behind them.

Ryuji pushed himself to his feet, shaky at first, but steady once he straightened his back. He clenched his fists at his side and grit his teeth. Akira was right. Ryuji would not give Kamoshida the satisfaction of being listened to. He would stand up for himself. He would stand up for his friends.

"No," Ryuji snarled, "That's what you are, Kamoshida."

He had no idea what he was going to do, but he was going to fucking do something!

“STOP LOOKING DOWN ON MY WITH THAT STUPID SMILE ON YOUR FACE!”

Ryuji was proud of himself for a moment, to watch Kamoshida’s smug grin falter, but in the next, Ryuji’s heart skipped a beat.

He could suddenly feel his heart pound against his ribcage as a voice echoed from within.

“ _You made me wait quite a while._ ”

Ryuji collapsed, clutching the sides of his head in a hopeless attempt to stop the spread of searing pain with every heartbeat. Starting from the back of his skull, the shockwaves rushed down his spine and quickly spread outward toward his fingertips. He could hear screams and it took him far too long to realize they were his own.

The voice, deeper than his own and yet strangely familiar, was kind, even while teasing him. Despite the pain and the shaking, Ryuji couldn’t help but listen.

“ _You seek power, correct? Then let us form a pact_ ,” the voice almost cooed, a soothing balm to the rolling storm of fear in Ryuji’s heart.

The pain, however, persisted. Tears welled up in Ryuji’s eyes, but he continued to listen.

“ _Since your name has been disgraced already, why not hoist the flag and wreak havoc? The ‘other you’ desires it._ ”

“I’m am thou,” Ryuji felt himself choke out, a whimper that he barely heard over the strange voice, his ‘other self’. It was an agreement; a pact. He sought power, yes. He sought power because he wanted to be stronger to protect those he loved; to protect those that couldn’t protect themselves. As a kid, Ryuji had watched his mother suffer at the hands of a man that was supposed to love her. He listened, helpless, as his father shouted and berated her. He’d hide when his father would come home smelling like booze and looking for a fight. When Ryuji tried to protect his mother, to put an end to shouting and the bruises, he was beaten for it. As a teenager, he watched Kamoshida ramp up his abusive tactics against the track team. Ryuji watched him shove and belittle his old friends. He seethed when Kamoshida spoke about Ryuji’s father and smugly declared that Ryuji would turn out exactly the same. When Ryuji raised his fist and tried to defend himself and his friends, he was beaten for it.

Ryuji had watched Akira and that strange cat lose a fight. He watched them be trampled and hurt and Ryuji had felt helpless all over again. He was terrified to witness yet another person be harmed while he was stuck on the sidelines. Ryuji had been scared to say anything after Kamoshida had taken the one thing Ryuji had naively defined himself by. He had been the star of the track team. He had shown promise. He’d had a path laid before him that would help him to help his mom and Kamoshida had torn it all away in seconds, because of a snap decision on Ryuji’s part to stick up for himself, to stick up for the mother who had to raise him alone, to stick up for friends that immediately left him behind. In that moment, with tears running down his face, his heart a jackhammer in his chest, and his limbs pulsing with electricity, Ryuji knew what he wanted to do, what he needed to do. Ryuji would fight back. He would protect those he cared for. He may be beaten for it, but he would not be beaten down. Not anymore. “Thou art I!”

“ _There is no going back._ ” It was more a statement than it was a warning. There was no going back to pretending he was content to stand by and watch a person suffer. That wasn’t who he was. “ _The skull of rebellion is your flag henceforth!_ ”

The pain stopped abruptly, leaving Ryuji with an electric tingling across his palms. He felt something foreign pressed across his forehead and cheeks. Reaching up to feel for what was there and struggling back to his feet, Ryuji’s fingertips met cool metal. A subconscious part of him knew he had to remove it. It was a mask he hid behind; a mask he needed to reclaim. 

The shadow pulled its sword from its sheath and scoffed. Ryuji could hear the lilt of a grin in its voice. “What can you do? Cower and watch!” The shadow raised its sword, poised to cleave through Akira’s neck.

Ryuji pressed his nails beneath the mask, mimicking what he had seen Akira do. He could feel the resistance of the mask against his skin. It tugged and pulled, threatening to tear away flesh, but there was no going back. There was no time for hesitation.

After a breath through clenched teeth, he dug his fingers underneath the mask and ripped downward in one smooth motion. Ryuji screamed as the mask came free, leaving blood splattered across his arms and dripping into his eyes. The burning electricity returned, rushing back through his body in one final surge.

Ryuji didn’t have to look behind him to know what was there. He could feel it, sense it in a way he hadn’t been able to before.

**Captain Kidd.**

Ryuji was given a mere moment to collect himself. He noticed how far the guards had been knocked back, some struggling to stand up while others had disintegrated in the energy surge. Akira and Morgana were already on their feet; both wide-eyed and awestruck.

Ryuji had never felt quite like this. He felt like he could take on the world. He cracked his knuckles, ready for a fight, and a few sparks escaped into the air. The air surrounding Ryuji felt charged with electricity, but he felt right at home within it. 

“Let’s go, Captain Kidd!” he shouted and his true self grinned.

He would not let Kamoshida hurt anyone else.

-

Once the remaining shadows in the foyer and Kamoshida’s shadow had frantically run deeper into the Palace, the trio ran for the exit. They were content to leave now that they had the faces of the people Kamoshida had a cognitive replica of.

They left Morgana behind, of course. He didn’t attempt to follow them out and the cat had said he lived in that strange world. Right? Or, maybe it was that he had a mystery to unravel and he’d need a favor? Panic had made it difficult for Ryuji to pay attention to the creature’s explanations the first or every subsequent time. Plus, Ryuji couldn’t imagine something like Morgana traversing their plane of existence. So, he must live somewhere outside the Palace but within the same plane… probably.

Ryuji crouched down against the alley wall, trying to catch his breath. The cat hadn’t been kidding when he said these ‘Awakenings’ take a lot out of a person.

“I could go for something to eat,” Ryuji commented, a hopefully subtle request to keep Akira around. “Wanna come with? I know a place.”

“Sure, I don’t see why not,” Akira said, reaching out for Ryuji’s hand to help him stand. “I wouldn’t mind an early dinner.”

Ryuji reached out to him in return. A small burst of static jumped from Ryuji’s fingertips to Akira’s. The other boy jolted, yanking his hand back to cradle it against his chest. “That hurt,” he grumbled and shook out his hand.

Ryuji gasped and pushed himself upright. He reached out to check Akira’s hand for any damage but quickly thought better of it. “I’m so sorry, dude! I didn’t know I would do that.”

“It’s okay. It just surprised me.” Akira quickly cleared his throat and regained some semblance of his usual composure. He softly smiled. “It was just a little shock. At least we know there’s a spark between us.”

Ryuji blinked. “Huh?”

“Oh! I was just- Nothing. Nevermind.” Akira reached out again and this time, Ryuji didn’t shock him. “Let’s go eat.”

At Ryuji’s preferred beef bowl shop, he and Akira sat huddled together, whispering between themselves about Personas and Awakenings.

“I knew it hurt,” Ryuji said, “I didn’t expect to feel like I was being electrocuted. Did awakening Arsene feel like that?”

Akira shook his head and only took a small bite of his beef bowl. “Awakening Arsene hurt, but I felt like my whole body was on fire.”

“Well, it was,” Ryuji said, perhaps a bit too loudly because Akira quickly shushed him. He winced and tried again with a softer volume. “It was. You didn’t notice that your whole body was actually on fire?”

Akira shrugged and fussed with his banged. It was a nervous habit of his, Ryuji guessed. “I had mostly focused on Arsene’s voice to ignore the pain. What about you? Did you notice the giant explosion?”

“Seriously? I felt it, but I guess I couldn’t really see what it looked like from the outside… Did it look cool?”

“Yeah, it looked cool,” Akira said, “It was like a lightning strike.”

“Whoa, I wish I could have seen that!”

Akira shushed him again, but quietly huffed through his nose with a smile.

 _A laugh_ , Ryuji thought fondly, _I made Akira laugh_.

“So… We haven’t talked much yet,” Ryuji said, realizing how little he actually knew about Akira. He knew the rumors and he knew about his criminal record, but Ryuji hadn’t heard anything from the man himself. Ryuji wanted to know more. “You heard a bit of my whole deal. ‘Track Traitor’, and all that… What brought you to our shitty school?”

Akira frowned and began picking at his food. Ryuji wanted to quickly backpedal once he recognized he had immediately picked a touchy subject, but Akira was already speaking. “I'm from a small town. Everyone knows everyone there. Tokyo is… really different.”

That was an understatement. Ryuji barely knew who his immediate neighbors were in his apartment complex. He couldn’t even imagine knowing the whole building.

“I was walking home from baseball practice and a woman was being harassed and pushed toward a car by a drunk man I didn’t recognize at all. So, I grabbed his shoulder so he would turn around and I could get between them. He fell and hurt himself. The police were already on their way and… I guess he was actually really important because he told her to lie and say I attacked him and she did. I was found guilty and now I’m on probation. So, I came here, because I have to go to school and only Shujin would accept me.”

Ryuji was furious. He could feel his blood boiling beneath his skin. He so badly wanted to go back to Akira’s home town, find the asshole who framed him, and put things back the way they should be. He glared down at the table, “Just thinking about that makes me mad.”

“Sorry,” Akira muttered, shrinking in on himself as if he’d done something wrong.

“No, no!” Ryuji said and placed a hand on Akira’s sloped shoulder, “I’m mean… You didn’t deserve that. It wasn’t fair and I’m sorry that happened… and… you’re not alone.”

Akira met Ryuji’s eyes. Ryuji held his gaze, desperate to convey how he felt through a look. He let his hand slip off Akira’s shoulder. “Adults can be really shitty. Some really shitty ones tried real hard to ‘eff us over. And people are treating us like that we don’t belong, but… I guess what I’m trying to say is that we’re a lot alike.”

Akira watched him for a moment longer before nodding thoughtfully. “Was what Kamoshida’s shadow said true? Kamoshida broke your leg?”

Ryuji grimaced. “Yeah. I used to run track. He used a lot of abusive tactics just to punish the team for existing. One day, he was talking about… my dad…” Ryuji had always been hesitant to bring up his father. He’d once felt comfortable enough to explain why he only ever talked about his mom to a few track members when he’d thought they were close friends. He’d been sorely mistaken and revealing more to Akira felt like a huge leap in trust, but Ryuji was willing to give it, if only partly. “My dad left. He wasn’t a good person and Kamoshida was talking shit, so I punched him. He broke my leg and called it self defense. I can’t run anymore. Not professionally. I had to get a metal rod screwed into my femur and go to physical therapy. I lost my scholarship, so I can’t help my mom pay for my tuition if I were to go to college.”

“I’m sorry,” Akira said and frowned, “I wish I could have been there to help. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I wish I could have been there for you too, dude.”

“We are a lot alike,” Akira mused. “I guess that means you’re not alone either. We have each other now.”

Ryuji smiled and chewed his bottom lip in a failed attempt to hide it. He liked the sound of that. “You need to eat more,” Ryuji said, trying to avoid the mushy feelings he was being subjected to. He grabbed the nearby tongs and pulled pieces of pepper from their dish. “You said you like peppers, right?”

He places a few pieces on top of Akira’s half-eaten dinner.

“Hey!” Akira pulled his bowl closer to himself. “I can do that myself.”

“Let me do it!” Ryuji replied, reaching over to place more ginger on a dish beside the bowl, “I want to and I’m paying. Plus, there’s tons of ginger here!” Food had always been a welcome distraction and a way to say thank you, whether it was cooking for his mom or replenishing the ginger beside a friend's bowl.

“No,” Akira said, but he smiled nonetheless, “I can’t let you do that.”

“What are best friends for?” Ryuji asked and Akira relented.

They stayed at the beef bowl shop well after their meals were done and talked for hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryuji's awakening is my favorite out of all of them. I always feel so proud of him!


	5. Runner's High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryuji tries to share his love of running with his friends.

Ryuji loved how it felt to run again. The freedom that came with it returned when Akira would run beside him in Palace halls, never letting him fall behind the group, even as the team got bigger and Akira had more people to look after. Another shackle removed when Akira promised to train with him one-on-one, ensuring Ryuji didn’t feel like a burden just because he had to work a little harder. Another weight lifted when he and his friends would just run to each other, to meetings, or to outings. Despite the constant twinge in his right leg or the need to take more frequent breaks, it felt good to run again.

It was liberating in a way he hadn’t expected. There were no expectations to live up to; no scholarships to lose. Somehow, running through society's collective unconscious or running to prepare for another mission felt like a respite from daily life, a little bit of breathing room he sorely needed. The stakes were high, of course. Ryuji would never forget that lives were on the line, that his friends were relying on him to stay alert and focused, but he knew he belonged beside the Phantom Thieves, beside his friends, beside Akira. Once he realized that, life outside the Metaverse just wasn't as suffocating as it used to be.

That wasn’t to say his friends got the same joy out of it that Ryuji did. It didn’t help that Ryuji’s idea of quality time, to the majority of them, felt like extra training. In a sense it was, but that didn’t make it any less fun for Ryuji. Ultimately, he understood that their ragtag team of misfits weren’t all athletes. The majority of his friends were definitely the type of people who’d rather walk and talk when asked to jog during gym class. Still, he tried to convince them. Part of him believed they knew he just wanted to share a part of himself that he liked because even though they sometimes denied his requests, there were moments when his friends would agree and try their best to match his enthusiasm. He rarely managed to get the full group all at once, but building their strengths one-on-one was just as fulfilling.

It was a Saturday when they’d all managed to get together after school and outside of Mementos, waiting rather impatiently for Okumura’s change of heart, despite their relative experience with the process at that point. Ryuji had been less than excited about the choice of Saturday after school hangout. Walking around the Underground Mall felt like a waste of an afternoon, but Ryuji knew at least a few of the others would feel the same way about spending it running laps.

“If we’re just going shopping today, let’s go for a run or something tomorrow,” Ryuji suggested, toeing the ground with his shoe while he was handed items from Ann’s purse as she searched for her wallet. Akira eventually reached over to help lighten the load when the placement began to get a little precarious.

“Who in their right mind would run when no one is chasing them?” Futaba cried, “No way!”

Ryuji frowned. “You do realize that you need to build up stamina more than anyone else here, right?”

“I’m up for it.” Akira said with a shrug, “Anyone else?”

“Sorry, I can’t. Maybe next time,” Ann replied begrudgingly, still rooting through her purse, looking more annoyed by the second, “I’ve got a shoot tomorrow that I need to be ready for... Did I forget my wallet?”

“Fine. Makoto?” Ryuji asked.

Makoto shook her head. “I’ll need a rain check. I promised to hang out with Eiko. Maybe after school next week or next weekend?”

Morgana poked his head out from Akira’s bag, yawning wide, before adding, “Remember, we only have a few more days to hear from Haru’s father. We’ve dealt with the shadow, but Mementos is still a priority. Don’t goof off too much.”

“You’ve been sleeping all day,” Akira replied, reaching over his shoulder to scratch Morgana behind the ears. “Besides, I think we’ve earned a little bit more downtime. But, if you want us to keep training, Ryuji has the right idea.” 

Ryuji reached up to do that same, but the cat quickly dipped back into the bag to avoided being scratched and Ryuji quietly chuckled. He was always on the lookout for moments where Morgana behaved like a cat, especially when he denied it. 

“That might work better for me,” Ann said with a noncommittal shrug. “What about you, Yusuke?”

“I suppose I can’t say I have plans scheduled for next weekend. I’ll come along to watch,” Yusuke remarked. “Are you low on funds today as well?”

“Oh, um...” Ann grumbled, “I took my wallet out last night. I guess I didn’t put it back?”

“I can cover for you,” Haru suggested. “I can cover everyone’s purchases. I don’t mind.”

“No,” Ann quickly shook her head, “Haru, you don’t have to do that.”

“That’s okay. I’d like to. I haven't been able to thank you all for your help yet!”

Ryuji, realizing a side conversation had formed while he’d been distracted, groaned loudly to regain his friends’ attention, “Okay, so next week?”

“We already said yes, you big baby.” Ann rolled her eyes and began reaching for her things from Akira. “We’ll pick a day later.”

Futaba pouted, “If everyone else is going, I’ll come too, but you can’t make me run.”

Ryuji sighed, “Okay, later works.” He was annoyed he’d be spending another Sunday alone, but at least the general response had been ‘later’ and not ‘no’. That was something Ryuji could be excited for. 

“I’d like to go with you tomorrow, actually,” Haru admitted, “If that’s still on the table. Maybe going with someone will be what’ll convince me to try a gym out and it might quiet my nerves.”

“Yes!” Ryuji helped up his hand after clumsily readjusting Ann’s belongings, awaiting a high-five. Haru returned the gesture with a giggle. “You won’t regret it!”

“No, you’ll regret it," Ann grumbled, holding her purse open to let Ryuji dump everything else back inside, "I’ve had to chase after those knuckleheads in heels before.”

-

The following morning, after the trio convened outside Leblanc, Akira checked his phone for the train schedule per Ryuji’s request. Akira's school bag had been replaced with his gym bag, absent of Morgana who had stayed behind to wander Yongen-Jaya. He frowned and turned to face his teammates, "We're going to miss the train."

"Race you there?" Ryuji asked and grinned, falling back into his and Akira's usual antics without hesitation.

It was never a particularly fair race. Akira shouted 'Go!' while he was already midstride. Ryuji had anticipated the move and swiftly jumped ahead. Haru stumbled after them, belatedly realizing that a race had begun. 

Ryuji quickly pushed ahead. His feet hit the pavement, propelling him forward toward the train they were desperate not to miss. They could have waited for the next one, but where was the fun in that?

Ryuji had always loved the peace of mind that came with running, loved the humming of his muscles, and the pounding of his heart. Akira, on the other hand, had never managed to find that same runner's high. When training began encompassing the rest of the Phantom Thieves, no one else did either. The usual response was to collapse on the ground and complain about side stitches and cottonmouth, despite Ryuji's repeated attempts to explain how to prevent them. Still, Ryuji was glad to know that they at least tried to see what he saw in running.

He had regained quite a bit of mobility since he'd taken up training again. He wasn't as fast as he once was, but he'd gotten faster than Akira. Ryuji still had years of training under his belt and, despite having to relearn some of it, Ryuji's sprint had always been more skilled than Akira's mad dash to keep up. He knew Akira's running style well enough by now to know that Akira would start losing steam before they reached the station. He couldn't look behind him to check, so he couldn't pinpoint where Haru had ended up, but she'd kept up pretty well in the Metaverse.

Weaving through other pedestrians, Akira and Haru hot on his heels, Ryuji shouted out half-formed apologies and ‘excuse me’s as he sprinted toward his goal. He already had his metrocard out of his pocket and clutched in his hand before he’d sprinted past his friends. He skipped to a stop before the card reader. At the machine’s quiet beep, Ryuji ran forward, ignoring the security guard’s noise of alarm. Rocketing down a set of stairs, lightly touching the handrail for balance, he stopped abruptly behind a thin wall of people waiting for their train.

Ryuji turned around, standing tall after securing his victory, and watched as Akira barreled in after him. Out of breath and laughing too hard to catch it again, they waited for Haru. Haru bounded through last, struggling to force her metrocard back into her bag while still trying to maintain a jog. She stopped in front of them, gasping for breath and disapprovingly shaking her head.

“Sorry,” Ryuji said, reaching up to awkwardly rub at the back of his neck, “We probably should have warned you.”

“You gotta have your card ready or you’ve already lost,” Akira added. His eyes flickered through the swaths of people behind them, searching for any signs of security following them. 

Haru took a deep breath. Weakly giggling, she nodded, “I’ll keep that in mind for next time. I’m glad I remembered Ann’s advice and put on running shoes before I left instead of putting them in my bag. You guys are so fast!”

“Ryuji’s training regimen is exhausting,” Akira chuckled, “but you get pretty fast.”

Haru sighed, “I can’t wait.”

“We’ll start with stretches, don’t worry,” Ryuji promised, hoping Akira’s glowing review wouldn't scare her off. Based on her widening smile, it didn’t seem like it had.

Ryuji felt the rumbling of the train and he turned back around in time to watch the train pull up right on time. He boarded the train with Akira and Haru close behind. Ryuji grabbed the nearest handrail with one hand and impulsively grabbed Akira’s hand in the other. He barely noticed Akira glance down at their joined hands before the three of them stepped in closer as the train grew more crowded.

The three of them still laughed amongst themselves, Ryuji’s limbs still buzzing from the sprint. Running had always been freeing and he was glad that the feeling had reappeared. It just had never been because of the track team. It had always been about who ran beside him and that hadn’t gone away. He didn’t need to run for accolades or recognition. He could run for himself and he could run with people who really knew him. Even as he leaned his weight on his left leg to stop the twinge in his right, Ryuji didn’t feel like anything was holding him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely had to post something for Ryuji's birthday! And also happy #Ryujiweek apparently!


	6. Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or, by it's alternative: Two Bros Hold Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love some good mutual pining.

As Akira bent down in front of Ryuji, his old track friends turned and left, laughing and talking amongst themselves. Ryuji looked up grinning through the pain, glad that Akira’s position cast a shadow and kept the sun out of his eyes. The light formed a halo around Akira’s head, dancing among the dark curls.

“Are you okay?” Akira held out his hand to help him stand. Concern drew his brows together. Ryuji took it and let himself be pulled back onto his feet. “You didn’t have to let them do that.”

“I wanted to.” Ryuji shrugged. “It made them feel better.”

Akira glanced behind himself to watch Ryuji’s old friends enter the practice building through the gym, “ _They_ shouldn’t have wanted to.”

“They seem happier. Hopefully, they’ll start getting along again.” Ryuji shoved his hands into his pockets and toed at the grass. “Thanks.”

Akira scoffed, seemingly caught off guard, “For what? I didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah, I know! What the hell man!? You just stood there!” Ryuji laughed, smiling and hoping Akira wouldn’t take him too seriously. “But, no, you just being here is all I need.”

Ryuji had felt it then, the weight of the world lifting off of his shoulder as Akira returned his smile fondly. He felt like he could stand a little taller and run a little faster. Just knowing Akira cared made him feel just a little more like himself, just a little more like the person Ryuji was striving to be. 

Akira smiled, genuine and warm, and the bubbly feeling that Ryuji had learned to expect over recent months fluttered in his stomach and chest. He laughed a little harder.

Ryuji was still impressed that they had managed to dig up Yamauchi’s real reasons for taking over the track team. He was thankful that Akira had been there to help him through it all, despite the discovery being exactly as disappointing for the newly reinstated track team as Ryuji had assumed. Sitting across from him at their table, finishing their celebratory dinner, Ryuji still struggled to put that bubbly feeling in his chest to words whenever Akira was around.

Akira muttered about what he’d been up to lately, some of it mild complaints about how little time he thought he had. Ryuji listened, he always listened, because it wasn't often that Akira went out of his way to talk about himself and his own feelings. If Akira wanted to gripe about something, Ryuji was absolutely down to let him talk it out.

Ryuji liked listening to Akira talk. It always served to make Ryuji feel like they were the only two in the room. He hadn’t been lying when he told Akira that being around him made him feel free. Akira just had that effect on him and it was a little embarrassing how often it happened.

Ryuji had been so confident that his best friend would understand the first time he’d admitted it, that he had forgotten to feel nervous. Akira had understood so much of what Ryuji had told him already, he had assumed the pattern would continue. It hadn’t been a confession, Ryuji told himself afterward, once he was home and had time to overthink every word and every look between them. It _wasn’t_ a confession, Ryuji decided, because Akira had chuckled quietly and asked him to clarify. _Twice_. 

Ryuji hadn’t clarified. He’d chickened out and decided while texting Akira later that night about what movie they could see, that despite how nice the feelings were, he would tamp them deep, deep down and keep them to himself. The universe had given him a second chance not to embarrass himself and Ryuji was hoping to be smart for once and take it.

Ryuji had never really voiced his feelings for Akira beyond feeling like the world was no longer crashing down on his shoulders. Ann had whisked him away a few times with the promise of buying him dinner if he was her shopping buddy for the day, only to hover over his shoulder every time she caught him texting Akira. She’d tease him, standing on her toes to catch a glimpse of what Akira had said to make him look so lovelorn.

He denied it every time and yet it was her playful teasing that made him question his own feelings in the first place. Ryuji hated thinking introspectively. He never felt like he came away feeling better about his circumstances whenever he did. Telling himself that his feelings didn’t matter because there was no way Akira felt the same, both calmed his nerves and disappointed him. Still, he could be content being Akira’s best friend. 

Besides, Ryuji couldn’t find another way to communicate how he felt. Free had been the exact word he had been searching for every time he texted Akira late at night to ask him to make plans or just to see if he could come over. It was how he felt when Akira ran laps alongside him at the park or at the gym on rainy days. It was how he felt when he’d rile himself up, trapped in a storm of his own thoughts that only served to make him angrier, and Akira would remind him to unclench his fists and just breathe. Things could seem bad, but they would get better. Ryuji just didn’t feel trapped anymore. He felt free.

Ryuji eventually concluded that vocalizing how he felt wasn’t that hard. It only became difficult when he let himself think about what Akira’s response would be if he understood. Ryuji wasn’t a thinker. He preferred action and sometimes it was easier to act than to meticulously plan. That was probably what made it so easy to finally blurt it out to Ann.

“I think I like him.”

“I know,” Ann said, pressing a shirt against her torso and looking into the store's nearest mirror.

“No, I mean…” Ryuji steeled his resolve. He’d come this far, “I really, really like him. A lot.”

“I know.” Ann turned around, her voice sincere. She wasn’t teasing him this time. “Have you told him that?”

“Sort of.”

“So, you haven’t.”

Ryuji’s shoulders tensed. A myriad of possibilities clouded his thoughts. Most of their talks about romance, although spearheaded by Ryuji, had always centered around girls. It was very likely Akira didn’t feel the same way. Ryuji also just didn’t know the right words to say. Maybe Akira had actually understood him and had only been pretending he didn’t understand to soften the blow. If he tried again it could ruin their friendship.

“I can’t.” Ryuji frowned, “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” He slid his phone into his back pocket, ignoring the buzzing of an incoming text for the first time that afternoon.

“I think you should but… Okay,” Ann sighed and reluctantly changed the subject, “Do you think this would look better on Makoto?”

It didn’t help that the next time he met up with Akira, he kept asking him about it, fiddling with his chopsticks and keeping his eyes trained down toward his bowl ramen.

“Not again. I don’t know any other way to explain it, dude,” Ryuji faltered, fidgeting in his seat, “Hanging out with you… Talking to you… It just makes me feel free. I feel free.” He kept repeating it, unable to find a better way to describe it without dropping too many hints. “I think everybody’s looking for a place to belong and… I think mine is by your side.”

Akira tilted his head and said, “Okay, I think I get it.”

It didn’t look like he did. He was smiling the same way he did when he didn’t get a joke and didn’t want to hurt his friend’s feelings. Ryuji really hoped he didn’t think he was joking.

“I’m not kidding!” he pressed.

Akira nodded quickly, reaching out from across the table to lay his hand over Ryuji’s wrist, before sliding it down to grasp Ryuji’s hand in his own. Akira’s eyes flickered from their hands up to Ryuji’s face. “No, I know. I…”

Ryuji faltered, his heart jumping into his throat.

Ryuji liked being close to Akira. He liked throwing his arm over Akira’s shoulders and feeling how his muscles flexed. He liked sitting close to him during lunch or while barreling through Mementos. He didn’t dislike that Akira’s hand laid over his own, practically holding it. Ryuji welcomed it, loved it. 

It wasn’t often that Akira instigated contact on his own, but he’d always reciprocate it like he’d been waiting for an excuse. He’d dip his head to make the transition into a side hug easier if he noticed Ryuji’s arm coming around to grab him. He’d turn to face Ryuji if he came to sit beside him at lunch. He never seemed to mind when Ryuji reached out to hold his hand. Akira just didn’t initiate contact the same way Ryuji did. Encountering it now, Ryuji felt too stunned to reciprocate it properly.

He moved a bit too slowly, trying to turn his hand over to return Akira’s hold, and Akira pulled back. Ryuji immediately missed the contact as he closed his hand around the air. “I, uh…”

“No, but, yeah, I get it,” Akira said, quickly averting his eyes, and cleared his throat, a red tint to his cheeks. "Sorry, I thought… Nevermind."

Ryuji laughed, attempting to dispel the tension that had strangely developed between them. “Man, just forget it. I feel free, that’s all.” It wasn’t all that important anyway. He’d told Akira how he felt. Ryuji was almost relieved Akira hadn’t completely understood. The thought of Akira knowing tied Ryuji’s stomach into knots.

“I’m glad,” Akira said and smiled, “I’m glad you feel free.” 

-

The infiltration Sae’s Palace had been a harrowing endeavor all around. Ryuji knew the plan by heart and had remained steadfast in his belief that Akira and, as a result, everyone else would make it out of this alive. Ryuji refused to believe that the outcome would be anything other than in their favor. The alternative was too difficult to think about. Losing Akira was too difficult to think about. It didn’t help Ryuji’s nerves when Akechi pushed the date to send the calling card as far back as it could go, even if the choice had been predictable. The threat of their intricate planning falling short, of a misstep leading to their leader's death, loomed over their team. Despite Ryuji’s air of unwavering confidence, behind it all, Ryuji was terrified. However, like with most things, Ryuji pushed his fear to the back of his mind and kept smiling.

Hoping to unwind a little, the calling card finished and waiting to be sent, he and Akira sat beside one another on the low fencing along the pond in Inokashira Park. The run they had just finished left them both too out of breath to talk for a short time, but eventually, the silence was broken when Akira asked, "So, remember how you said I make you feel free and I didn't get it?"

"Yeah?" Ryuji had honestly thought Akira had forgotten that moment or at least chosen to ignore it. Akira hadn’t brought up their exchange at the restaurant since then. Ryuji had been content to believe that Akira had just grabbed his hand to express his sincerity and Ryuji had been the one looking too far into it. Unfortunately, it hadn’t stopped the fluttery feeling in his gut whenever Akira sat too close or smiled in his direction. It didn’t stop Ann from teasing him, either. 

"I've been thinking about it. I wasn’t sure if I got it right, but I've thought about how I feel…”

“Yeah?” Ryuji asked again, feeling like a broken record. 

Akira nodded and plucked a leaf from a nearby bush. “Being with you feels like… it feels like sunshine."

"...What?" Ryuji wondered if this was how confused Akira had felt when he’d brought up his own feelings. He really didn’t want to get his hopes up.

Akira laughed and his worried hands picked the leaf apart, "You know. When you close your eyes on a sunny day and turn your face up to the sun and you feel warm and safe."

Akira tilted his head back, eyes closed as if to demonstrate the feeling he was talking about. When Ryuji thought of the sun, his mind went to sunburns and heatwaves, sweating through your shirts, and chugging down water just to stay sane. He eventually tilted his head back to match Akira after a moment’s hesitation. In the cool November air, the rays shining down on his face felt nice for the few seconds he held the pose. When he opened his eyes again, Akira was watching him expectantly.

"I make _you_ feel safe? Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

Akira's fingers inched closer to Ryuji's and lightly lay across them. The feather-light touch made Ryuji's heart pound against his ribcage. 

Akira shrugged, focusing his attention down toward their hands and not Ryuji's face. "I don't know. Maybe it doesn't make as much sense as I thought it did. Does feeling free also feel safe?"

"I-I guess."

Akira smiled. It wasn't the cocky grin Joker flashed at shadows in Mementos or the wide smile Akira covered and hid with his hand when Ryuji managed to say something funny. This smile was small, mostly in the crinkle of his eyes. "I'm happy to hear that."

The fluttery feeling in his stomach returned stronger than ever. Ryuji tried to smile back, hoping he didn't look as disoriented as he felt. 

“What did you think I meant?” Ryuji asked, sliding his hand to fit underneath Akira’s palm. “When I said you made me feel free, I mean.”

Akira nose crinkled and shook his head, “It’s embarrassing.”

Ryuji scoffed, “You can tell me. I wouldn’t judge you.”

"...I thought you liked me," he chuckled awkwardly. "I think I was... projecting or something."

Ryuji felt his heart skip a beat in his chest. He stumbled over his next few words. "I do like you."

Akira blinked and his eyes flickered up to meet Ryuji's. Ryuji hoped his face wasn't as red as it felt. "Really?"

"Y-Yeah, but it doesn't have to change anything." Ryuji quickly backpedaled.

Akira shook his head. "I wouldn't mind if it did. I like you too."

Ryuji nodded, slowly at first before picking up the pace as the words sank in. "Cool."

"Cool?" Akira asked.

"Yes," Ryuji replied, his thoughts still trying to catch up with what he'd heard. "So, what now?"

Akira laughed. Ryuji could feel Akira’s hand shaking and held on a little tighter. "We go on dates? We could see a movie?"

"How's that different from what we normally do?"

"I don't know."

After a moment of pause, they laughed, leaning in to rest against one another. Now that it was out in the open, Ryuji couldn't remember what he'd been so afraid of.

"Can I kiss you?" Akira asked, taking the initiative.

Ryuji nodded, not confident enough to speak. Akira leaned in and Ryuji closed his eyes and closed the gap. The first kiss was quick and clumsy as if they were afraid they'd misunderstood each other, and Ryuji was left with his heart pounding in his ears. The second was much more confident.

Akira laid his head down on Ryuji's shoulder and Ryuji leaned in closer. "I didn't think this would happen. I thought it was just me."

"Same." Ryuji's voice sounded quiet, even to himself. "But, I tried to tell you."

"I make you feel free," Akira said and although he was hiding his face in the crook of Ryuji's shoulder, Ryuji could hear the smile in his voice, "and you remind me of sunshine."

Ryuji slowly rest his cheek atop Akira's head, brushing aside his frizzy curls. They sat together, hidden amongst foliage and away from the outside world where they were wanted criminals. Here, together, they were free as they soaked in the sunshine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hesitant to mark this as finished. This was the final one-shot I had planned, but who knows. I like making these sorts of series so that could always change in the future. For now though, thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments!


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